Whoa man

So I will keep this short and to the point. I had my class with my obscene professor today (he curses like every other word) but this class he really only cursed a couple times (and I think they were well placed this class). Anyway, we talked about migration and city life again. We have 2 classes per topic in the text book, so this was the second one on this topic. I really couldn't believe my ears. The atrocities he talked about today were so painful I fought back tears at least 3 times in the class. When he dismissed us I sat in my chair in the class fighting back tears as other people left. I left the room walked down the open air hallway with Liz behind me and stopped at the column right by the steps out on to the sidewalk where I proceeded to weep intensely into Liz's chest. I cried there for a good few minutes and then she suggested I go to the bathroom to clean up (I was pretty gooky).

Just think about these things and tell me if you are really as desensitized as our culture wants you to be, I hope to God that you aren't.

A mother gives her child to a man who promises her he will take this baby to a better place, a family who wants her and will love her and has money for her to go to school. The mother just wants the best for her daughter. The man takes her and brings her to any of the following:

A fattening camp, where they fatten up the children so that they can be used in slave labor, prostitution or organ donation.
A brothel where she is traded for sex at whatever age she might have (as young as 4 or 6 years old).
A doctor where she is used as an organ donor right away, because some a-hole in the first world is willing to buy an organ for his kid without knowing where it comes from.

Okay, now imagine that the man who takes this girl away asks for money from the mom and she gives it to him. He just bought that child's life.
And now here's the part I have so much trouble with: He is still a man. He still deserves his human rights. And you know what, it's possible that he IS NOT a sociopath. He feels, just like you and I do. That gets me every time. I just cannot imagine at all, but you know what, it's true. People out there do this because that's all they can do. They're weak and they have a cousin who will give them money to do this nasty stuff and they do it because they can't find food or water or clothes or shelter or acceptance anywhere else.

Now you can understand why I cried, right? This is absolutely horrible and it happens all the time.
The part that really got to me was the organs. With all of me I want to deny that it happens, but it's true. It does happen, and it happens all the time.

Please, keep this f-ed up world in your prayers. I am sorry to be crude, but look around. If you don't see a whole bunch of stuff that needs to change, then you aren't seeing. Offering money helps, but this is what I know: There are tons and tons of people out there who have stories they need to tell in order to heal, and I want to be the one who hears them and see them through their healing. I don't know what that really means for my life but that's what I want so badly right now.

I want to be able to listen to the girl who lost her hand because some little kid needed a new hand. I want to hear her struggles, her pains and I want to love her with all of my heart. I cannot imagine the lives that the children of our world are living right now, but some day I want to be able to think about those children as a part of me, a part of my past, a part of my story, and know that I am a part of theirs. And I also want to be a part of the story and past of those who hurt them, not as a persecutor or prosecutor but as someone they remember as giving them forgiveness and grace despite the atrocities they committed and have them strike them so hard (that someone could really love them even though she knows what they did) that they are never ever the same again.


That wasn't exactly short and to the point, but that's what I needed to say right now. I know my professor saw me crying when he left the classroom, and I don't know what he thought. I just hope that my compassion for those who are suffering will some day make a difference in this world, as screwed up as it is.


Now I have to go to class. Thanks for reading. Please keep this in your prayers. Thank you
Love to you all, (and to Becca who I know is praying for me right now)
Nora